Upon A Star
by Tribble Master
Summary: We're all lying in a ditch but some of us are looking at the stars. Dean waits for Sam to come save him, but Sam's not the only one searching.
1. Wish Upon A Star

**Tittle: Upon A Star**  
**Challenge: Ditch  
Diclaimer:** Not mine. So sad.  
**A/N: **Loosley Inspired by Oscar Wilde, "_We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."  
_**Word Count: *is dead* **

**This week,** I din't know how to make this drabble work by itself, and I anticpated update requests. So this is a tripple drabble, but more like a double drabble because it's just over 200.

* * *

Lying in a ditch, bruised and beat to hell waiting for help, Dean shudders. It's so damn cold out and everything is messed up. Jumping from a car that was moving down the highway was not really the brightest idea.

It was better than staying with the kidnappers though. He groaned, listening intently to the road. Waiting to hear the rumble of a 67 impala. Wondering again, if Sam had fared any better.

He watched the sunset as he crawled to higher ground.

But even lying in the gutter at this darkest hour, he can still see the stars up ahead glittering with promise.

-o-o-o-o-

Sam watched the sunset blur into the vanishing road and swore. Why did they have to ditch the plan? If only they hadn't gone back to the motel early…

His arm was hurt, and his wrist was probably sprained. Wondered again, why Dean? Why didn't they take him too? Why didn't they kill Sam instead of just leaving him broken?

Sam doesn't really care. As long as Dean's okay. He looked at the stars, and prayed he have his brother by sunrise.

-o-o-o-o-

"We need him!" The older man swore. "How can I complete the spell!"

"He wasn't like any one else…" defended the nervous younger man, "there was two of them…."

"Well, we need someone. For tonight." He jerked a thumb outside. "Do you want to join them?"

The younger man bowed his head and looked at the ditch outside filled with the victims he'd brought here.

Up above, the last star moved into alignment.

"I'll go find him," he said.

o-o-o-o

One shooting star cut across the sky as three wishes were made.


	2. Search and Fail

**Tittle: Upon A Star, Part 2**  
**Diclaimer:** Not mine. And you can clearly see why Kripike won't let me touch them. *blush* Iz not my falut their so damn cute in itty pieces.  
**A/N: **Was loosley Inspired by Oscar Wilde, "_We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."_

_

* * *

  
_

He was a nervous wreck, wondering why the hell he had even bothered joining up with Clyde. I mean who wanted to live forever when your only accomplice was a dick? James shook his head. But now he was stuck. He'd helped kill too many people already to get away clean.

And what was one more drifter anyway?

He could start over later, when he had his immortality. The night was darkening quickly as he sped along the quite road. Across the lanes in a ditch he saw a familiar lump. The man was shaking with effort, trying to get help. Without thinking he swerved into the oncoming lane.

_Help is on the way, _he thought grimly as he went to save his last victim.

o-o-o-o-o

Sam wasn't looking at the road. He was looking into his memories searching for any clue, anything he could remember. Their attacker was tall, sandy haired, quite not much of anything really. But he was quick, and had had a bat ready.

Sam cursed himself for not being quicker, for not already having a weapon when he walked in.

But he was speeding now to make up for lost time, eyes searching. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw something on the side of the road…blindness hit him and he instantly focused back to where he was heading.

It was too late.

o-o-o-o-o

Sam had been talking to the front desk lady extending their motel stay, that's why Dean had walked into the room alone. He wished he'd stayed with Sam in retrospect. In retrospect, he wishes he could change a lot of things. Like dying in a ditch in a one horse town.

Dean regrets not noticing the lock had been tampered with. That scrawny kid had been waiting for him in the motel. If the bastard hadn't thrown a bag over his head two steps in, he sure as hell would have gotten in a better hit.

Dean doesn't want to remember that now. He's trying to remember any first aid he can and figure out if his injuries are okay, bad, or screwed to hell. It's not too bad, he decides. He just has to avoid dying of hypothermia and boredom. He looks up at the approaching lights. A car was coming! Finally he could signal for help!

With shaking limbs, he tries to lift himself just a little higher. Nearly out of breath with the effort, he looks up to see the two cars collide.

An Impala and a van.

The head on collision sent glass flying as metal twisted into a lover's embrace. Dean already had a broken collar bone, intense bruising, concusion but now he also has glass shards decorating him like porcupine.

His vision became dark red as blood dripped into his eye, then black as pain and shock overcame him.

Okay, Dean decides, now my injuries are screwed to hell.

o-o-o-o-o

James shook glass shards from his hair and looked at himself. His wrist was broken, but it looked like the airbag had spared him most of the damage. But the van was shot. Crap.

He got out and stood on shaky ground. A smile spread across his face. It was _him _that pathetic excuse for a rescue. James looked at the unconscious driver, he regretted leaving him alive, but he might still be useful.

Mere feet from the cars was his prize. But the man was bleeding to death right before James' eyes! He couldn't let that happen. He needed him to bleed sure, but later.

In the back of the van was a first aid kit. He pulled out the biggest glass shards quickly, and threw some gauze on the wounds. No need to be gentle, Clyde was going to kill him in an hour anyway.

Clyde. James frowned. He'd be pissed about the van. James called him anyway, not wanting to risk further anger.

o-o-o-o-o

Sam woke up slowly, cursing the Impala and its lack of airbags. Every inch of him was sore. He'd already been beaten with a bat earlier and add a car crash? "Fuck," he murmured.

He looked around the dark cellar. Next to him, Dean lay unresponsive. If Dean didn't look so… well, _dead, _Sam would have laughed. He found his brother, but he hadn't found much.

The door opened. That scrawny good for nothing was standing in the doorway. Without a word he pulled out a gun, and aimed. "Don't move," he said calmly.

Clyde appeared next to him, and walked into the room. None to gently, he picked up the unconscious Dean. Sam stood up, anger surging through his frame. "Don't touch him!"

Clyde chuckled, "You'll get your turn sweetheart, don't worry."

Sam took a step forward but the pair backed out quickly and shut the door. The younger Winchester looked around to see what else he could use for a weapon.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Dean woke up bathed in moonlight. He looked around. He was lying in a circle, ruins marking the edge. He sat up, but found he could only move a little. His arms and ankles were tied to the ground.

He heard the Latin chanting start.

Well, he thought sadly, looks like someone found me after all.

**TBC**

**ONE MORE CHAPTER I PROMISE!!!**

* * *


	3. Mortality Like Art

**Upon A Star**  
**Part 3: ****Morality, like art, means drawing a line someplace.****  
Diclaimer:** Not mine. For a good reason. Kripke's jealous.

Sorry it took so long to finish! Thank you for your patience. I was being hounded by teh ghost of Oscar Wilde. If I don't respond to any reviews right away, it's cause FFnet is being mean right now. So in advance, thank you for your reviews.  
_  
_

* * *

As the last star fell, so did the blade. It was rusty and old and in no way a decent escape attempt, but Sam was desperate. It didn't even count as a blade, it was just some broken pipe, half buried in the corner of the barren shed that jagged and sharp.

There was a click as it jammed in the door lock.

He pushed it open tentatively.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Hesitantly James stammered out the Latin chant. He was internally trying to figure out the math. The spell for immortality needed only one more person; this blonde kid he'd kidnapped. So why was Clyde insisting they save the tall brunette for later?

Unless- James tried to remember the other spells he and Clyde had discussed. There was only one other one he could remember that needed this precise star alignment, and precisely three more sacrifices. His jaw dropped…

This wasn't immortality.

This was worse than the body count they'd racked up. This was worse than the kidnappings, the theft, and the scams. This had to stop.

"James! Read the last line already!" Clyde snapped, twirling the blade in his hand.

o-o-o-o-o

Dean looked up at the stars. He recalled distantly the crash he had witnessed- an Impala… Could it have been Sam? If it was, Dean thought sadly, he wouldn't be laying here trying to make any of his aching joints move.

He was on his side, his wrists firmly tied together attached to the stake in the ground. The rope burn stung but he had to keep twisting. As the rope knot slid undone, Dean wished their spell casting was as good as their knot tying.

Barely a few feet away he heard the Latin stop.

"You aren't a god Clyde!"

"But I will be, you ignorant fool!"

"You were going to kill me too weren't you?"

"Well, of course, you're just the first victim to actually be helpful." Clyde sneered.

Dean let out the breath he was holding. They were distracted, good.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam edged around the decrepit back yard and into the backyard. He look around past the open grave, and saw who he was looking for.

"Where the hell is he!" One yelled.

Sam's eyes say them gesturing to a dirt circle, and candles. In the forest just beyond he thought he saw a shadow move.

They must have seen something to; in quick steps Clyde turned his back on James. He looked around the first tree.

"You can't leave until the show is over," Clyde was saying, dragging something out of the tree line. "Honestly, how far where you going to get with your feet still tied?"

Sam watched as Dean struggled. The rusty pipe was still in the shed lock, but there more options here. He grabbed the shovel and crept forward.

o-o-o-o-o

It's called a snap decision for a reason.

James clenched around one idea in his mind, and snapped. All his focus zeroed in on one goal as he picked up the dagger that was meant for use on sacrifices.

He didn't want to think anymore about how he'd allowed himself to be brainwashed, how he'd crumpled under pressure and helped this mad man.

"James, god damnit, I will finish this spell, and I don't give a damn if you help." Clyde was panting with the other man's weight. James glared, thinking about all the things he'd helped Clyde with so far.

James did exactly as he had seen Clyde do repeatedly. He grabbed the back of his shirt collar and threw his head back. The surprise had Clyde blinking; mouth opening in a question, during the entire minuet it took for James to rake the blade across his throat.

He threw the body down, knowing this small act could hardly redeem him. Next to Clyde the shaking blonde was trying to move. James reached down to help him up as a shovel crashed down on his head.

"Do not touch my brother."

The ruins on the circle glowed, waiting for the spell to be complete. Dean moved slightly to double check that he wasn't seeing a dying man's hope.

"Sam?"

Sam helped him to his feet. "Yeah, Dean, it's me."

They leaned against each other, nearly collapsing twice as they shuffled to the van. Dean shuddered at the sight of it. Sam gently urged him into the front seat as he hotwired the vehicle.

The drove off into a bloody sunrise.

o-o-o-o-o

The cops woke James up-Are you okay? You're lucky to be alive. What happened? Did you know how many others there were? Were there any other cultists?

James shook, cold and sore. He apologized and explained how long he'd been held prisoner, took the time to give all the details.

He looked up at the clear skies that had erased the dark night.

It was a brand new day.

**FIN**


End file.
